Y Dont U Cum On Ova, Brittany?
by homoeroticmaintext
Summary: Actual title: Drunken Texts, Unfortunate Misunderstandings and a Sapphic Serenade! Oh My! Santana finally gets off her arse and goes for it with Brittany. But, is it too late? WARNING: Drunk!Santana has terrible grammar. Also, lesbians.
1. Even Quinn Ships Brittana

**Title:** Drunken Texts, Unfortunate Misunderstandings and a Sapphic Serenade! Oh My!

**Pairings: **Brittana. Minor Bartie. Background Faberry, Luck, Asian Fusion, Fabrevans, Finchel, Carma and one-sided!Wilma. Mention of Suck.

**AU:** Santana didn't inform Rachel of her little tryst with Finnessa. So Finchel didn't break up -blegh- and Puckelberry didn't make out. I think that's the only AU-ness.

**Rating:** T for sex references.

**A/N: Oh my god. My spellcheck recognises the word 'tits'! lmao  
If you spot the not-very-well-hidden joke/message/perversion I will love you forever.**

_Santana's texts. **Brittany's texts.**_

**DISCLAIMER: Yeah, I own Glee. I'm also a troll with a penchant for stupid yellow hats who doesn't believer in lesbians. Also, the sky is purple and the moon really _is_**** made of cheese. Cheese, Gromit! Cheese!**

It was a Friday night and Brittany was sitting at her desk attempting to do her homework when her phone buzzed.

She picked it up and flipped it open. Raising her eyebrows as she laid her eyes upon the alert that had appeared on the screen.

'1 new message from: Santana'

Normally a text from Santana would be far from surprising, but ever since Brittany had resumed dating Artie she'd noticed her friend had been growing slowly more distant with her. It was almost like the brunette was avoiding her, Brittany found the whole situation very confusing. This aside, wasn't S supposed to be with Puck? She was sure she'd heard them discussing it in glee that afternoon. The blonde shook her head, trying to rid herself of the confusing thoughts that were swirling around her brain. She opened the text.

'_Well, smotimesI go out my byself nd i lokk acros th waaaaterrr_

_And I think of al the thingz whut yuor doin an ni my heas I pain apictuuuuure'_

"What... the hell?" Brittany murmured. She had absolutely no idea what most of it was supposed to say. Only after re-reading it a couple of times was she able to decipher the jumbled text. She recognised the lyrics as she cracked it. _Why is she texting me this?_ She wondered. She was about to text her friend the question when her phone vibrated again, the same alert as before appearing on the screen. She opened the message.

_'Coz sicne Ive comeon home, well my bodies benn a mses_

_And ive missed your long blonde hair ndth way yo like to dresss_

_Wo'nt you com no over? Spto makin a flol outta meeeeeeee_

_Whydont yoo comeon oooooover'_

Before Brittany even had a chance to make sense of gibberish she'd just received her phone vibrated yet again, she opened the message without thinking about it.

_'! !'_

Now, Brittany S. Pierce might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't as stupid as everyone seemed to think. So, she knew what the previous text was supposed to say even before she went to read it again.

She sighed and put the phone down; only to have it start vibrating as soon as it left her grasp. She rolled her eyes and flipped it open once more. Sure enough, there was the alert informing her of one new text from Santana. She opened the text. Still, perplexed as to why her best friend was sending her lyrics from Valerie - or should this version be Brittany? - instead of fooling around with Puck.

_'Did uyo hafto go t jailpt youre house all upf or salr, did you ged a good lawyeeeer?_

_I hep you did'ny cach atan, hop you fin the right WOman too fix tit for yoooou_

_Are you shipping anywhere? Chnga th clolr offyour hair? Are yo bussy?_

_N id you have top ay th fine that youwere dogein all the time? Are you still dizyyyy?'_

She read it again, getting more confused by the second. She was about to read the text for a third time when lo and behold she received **another** text!

_'Cosince Ive com eon hom, weel my bodys bene a mes_

_And I'vw missed youre long blonde hair and teh way yuo like to drees_

_Wo'nt you comm o ovre? Stop makin a loof outta meeeeeeee_

_Whyd ont yoo come on oooooover'_

Another text.

_'BRIIIIIIIIIIITTANYYYYYYYYYYY! ! ! BRIIIIIIIIIIIIITANYYYYYYYYYY!'_

The blonde was starting to get annoyed by this point. _There'd better be a reason for this, Lopez!_ She thought irritably as another text rocked her phone's world.

_'Well, semtimes I go out by myself and i lok acrros the waaaateeer_

_And I think of all te thing what yor doin andin my head I paint a pictuuuuure'_

She 'patiently' awaited the next didn't take long.

_'coz since I've come on hemo wlel m bodia bnen a messs _

_And I:ve mised yoru long blonde hair andths wau you likd to dreos_

_Wont you cme onover? Stop makign a fool outta meeeeeee_

_Why dn't you come on ooooooooooner'_

Thirty seconds later.

_'BRIIIIIIIIIIITTANYYYYYYYYYYY! ! ! BRIIIIIIIIIIIIITANYYYYYYYYYY!'_

Brittany took this to be the end of the song as there were no new messages three minutes later. She looked upon it as a cue to inquire as to what the hell it had been about.

_**'are you done?'**_

_'Yus.'_

_'wlel. I mgiht has one meor thing two satay.'_

_**'oh? what's that then?'**_

_'I luve you, man. In fatc i~m liek totes in lesbians wth you and stuuuff. For wheeeelz. Date my isted. We san liek haf swete ladykisses n thingd. An ike i'Ll be evne and whateves. Coz Im in love with you. And we can sing about makign laadybabies inglee if you still want to I mean. I knows ive been an epic bitchface atchou alla tim n leik I had a big gay panic or w/e so I understanf id yu don; wantyo... bu I hat tootlel yo mi fellins. Myb thrapisst tld me is bad to kep youre fleeingd lal botled up n crap'_

_**'wow. youre like really really drunk right now huh?'**_

_'that dosnt mane tits notrue! Iam in llove w/ yu! Beliiiiiiiiiieve meeeeeeeee!'_

_**'ill see you on monday San. when youre SOBER.'**_

_**

* * *

**_

Monday rolled around and Brittany was scrupulously avoiding Santana and Artie. She spent all her time with Quinn.

"OK, _what_ is going on with you and Santana, B?" Quinn asked her friend in a tone of exasperation and concern.

"I-I don't know what you mean!" Brittany stammered from behind the open door of Quinn's locker. She had practically tried to jump into the aforementioned storage space upon seeing a certain dark-haired cheerleader searching the hall.

"Please. You just threw yourself into my locker so she wouldn't see you – nice hiding place by the way, reeeeeeeal inconspicuous. And you're seriously trying to tell me nothing's up?" As she finished her mini-rant – Rachel would've been so proud – she gave the other blonde her trademark arched eyebrow.

Brittany looked down at her feet with an intensity no feet should ever merit. "On Friday S got drunk and started texting me the lyrics of Valerie..."

"Right. Why..?"

"I'm not sure. But, that's not really the problem."

"So what _is_ the problem?"

She got out her phone and opened the 'confession' text Santana had sent her on Friday, showing it to Quinn.

"..._Wow_." Was all the shorter blonde could say upon reading the drunken ramble.

"Right?" Brittany dead-panned. Closing her phone and putting it away.

"So, what're you going to do?" Quinn inquired, linking her arm with the taller girl's and leading them down the hall.

"I really have no idea." Brittany sighed. "I mean I really like Artie, but..."

"But you love Santana." Quinn offered softly, giving the other blonde a gentle smile.

"Yeah."

"Brittany!"

The girl in question turned to see Artie wheeling toward her, a large smile on his face. She glanced at Quinn, silently begging for help, but she just shrugged and mouthed a 'sorry'. "Hi." The bubbly blonde greeted her boyfriend with an obviously forced smile.

"What's up?" He asked bluntly, frowning.

"N-nothing." The Dutch girl replied unconvincingly. "But, Quinn and I have to get to class. See you in glee." She walked away quickly pulling the other blonde along by the elbow, and leaving Artie in the hall feeling hurt and confused.

"You're going to need to talk to them at some point, you know." Quinn remarked. As they walked away.

"I know... and I will... just not yet..."


	2. Emma's Gaydar Is Better Than Yours

**A/N: lol totally didn't mean to go on that big Quinn rant, but w/e XD**

**OK, I'm planning for the next chapter to be the last; I've got 688 words done so far, but I've got writer's block at the moment, so it'll probably be a while until I get it up. Sorry.**

**Also, the poorly-hidden joke in the first chapter was the 'come on hemo' line. Because I'm awesome (read: lame).  
**

**DISCLAIMER: What? So you think I have suddenly procured Glee in the space of time it took me to update? That really didn't happen. On so many levels did it not happen.**

Brittany was on her way... somewhere. She couldn't remember exactly where she was supposed to be. One of the – many – downsides of avoiding Santana was that there was no-one to tell her where to go when she – inevitably – forgot. None the less, she was trying. She probably wasn't succeeding, but she _was_ trying and she reasoned that if she wandered around enough she'd eventually remember where she was supposed to be.

"Brittany!" Artie called, rolling towards her. _Oh no._ She thought. He was the _last_ person she wanted to deal with. "I was just looking for you." He told her.

"Why?" She asked straightforwardly.

"You've been avoiding me." He replied in an equally blunt manner.

"...No?" The blonde replied. Looking anywhere but the boy's face.

Artie raised a sceptical eyebrow at her obvious lie. "Really?"

"OK." Brittany sighed, defeatedly. "I have been avoiding you."

"Why?"

"Because I need to talk to you."

"That doesn't make sense, Brittany."

"Just come in here." The dancer intoned, opening the door of a conveniently placed janitor's closet. He nodded and rolled himself in.

At the end of the corridor Santana watched the proceedings and felt the remainders of her heart break. It wasn't quite bad enough to make her collapse on the floor right there and cry her eyes out; but it was more than enough for her to skip the rest of the school day and run home as fast as her toned legs would carry her.

Santana burst through the threshold of the Lopez household and used the remnant of her strength to bolt up the stairs and throw herself into her bedroom. She collapsed on her bed and curled up into a ball. Shaking profusely. The tears fell against her will as, now alone, her walls crumbled to nothingness. She lay there, curled up, shaking and crying silently until gradually the emotional turmoil from what she thought she'd witnessed and the physical exhaustion of running full pelt from McKinley to her home caught up with her and she drifted into the arms of Hypnos.

Later that day, in glee, the mood wasn't exactly what one would call... gleeful. Quinn was perpetually pissed off with Finn. Sam was scared and confused as to why his girlfriend was so angry with his best friend. Rachel was also irritated by Finn, as he kept using her as a human shield. Mercedes was still depressed about Kurt transferring schools. Artie was devastated and confused about Brittany dumping him. Brittany was worried about Santana as she hadn't turned up for glee and wasn't returning her texts or answering her calls. Puck was down because Lauren was off sick (something which would've shocked the other glee clubbers had they not all been so caught up in there own dramas). Mike and Tina were in the middle of a (kind of racist) argument about Asian things; and Schue was depressed about Emma marrying Carl and confused as to why his glee clubbers were all in such bad moods.

_Maybe there's something in the water._ He mused half-heartedly. He wasn't at all sure as to what he should do about the aura of the club. Normally he would get them to do an impromptu group number to inject some fun into there souls. But he wasn't really feeling it, so he decided he'd try talking to them all one-on-one. _OR! I could get Emma to talk to them. She is the guidance councillor, after all._

"OK, guys." He said, with a clap of his hands to get their collective attention. "I don't know what's got everyone in such a funk. But, something's got to give. So, I'm going to arrange one-on-one sessions for you all with Ms. Pi- I mean _Mrs._ Pilsbury-Howell."

In the staffroom the next day Schue was pouring himself a cup of coffee when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to be greeted by the somewhat irritated face of Emma Pilsbury-Howell.

"Hi, Emma. What can I do for you?" The Spanish teacher asked amicably.

"Will, why did you arrange for me to see the entire glee club in one-on-one sessions?" The councillor asked, cocking her head to the side with warning look in her eyes.

"They've all been in really bad moods lately. And before you tell me they're teenagers and to get over it. I mean _all_ of them. Even Puck and Brittany have were moping the whole way through glee yesterday." He informed her. "I'm worried about them, and I thought you'd be better placed to help them."

The redhead sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'll do my best. But, I'm sure they're fine."

Quinn was the first to visit Mrs. Pilsbury-Howell. She didn't need to go, of course. But, hey, it got her out of maths. She sat in front of the obsessive compulsive councillor with a bored expression donning her angelic features.

"So, Quinn," the redhead began smiling at the cheerleader opposite her. "Mr. Schuester tells me you've been having some issues with Finn lately?"

The blonde merely arched an impeccably shaped eyebrow at the woman by way of response.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Emma asked hopelessly, expecting something along the lines of a snort and/or a roll of the eyes in response.

Instead Quinn sighed. "I know I'm being unreasonable towards him... It's just..."

"Yes?"

"Everything he does just really pisses me off, y'know? Like, he's such an idiot. I can't believe I ever dated him in the first place, y'know?" The teen fumed.

"Oh. OK." She nodded sympathetically. "So, why are you expressing these feelings now, then?"

"I dunno. Just got tired of..." Quinn paused, seemingly mulling something over. "I-If I tell you something it can just stay between the two of us, right?"

"That's right."

"Well, there's this... person I really, _really_ like." She paused, biting lip. "And they're with someone else. But, that person is such an ass. And like this person they could do so, so much better. And like I've really mistreated this person in past, 'cos like I didn't know what to do with my feelings or whatever, y'know? And like now I'm sort of being friendly to this person but I think I'm just freaking he—**them** out. And there's no way they'd ever like me back even if I hadn't treated them so badly, y'know? So, like I guess I'm just taking my anger out on Finn because I can. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Um..." To be frank, Emma really _didn't_ know what she was saying. In fact, she was quite over-whelmed by the length of Quinn's little soliloquy then there was the fact that it seemed that this 'person' was female; judging by the blonde's use of pronouns. At first she was shocked that Quinn Fabray was apparently a lesbian, but on second thought she kind of wasn't. There were actually many signs now that she stopped to think of it. There was the constant use of de-feminising nicknames. She'd heard all about the pornographic sketches on the wall of the end stall in the girls' toilets and on numerous occasions she was now completely certain she'd seen the blonde checking out fellow female students.

She smiled at the girl consolingly. "Don't give up hope, Quinn. You never know; sh—this **person** might surprise you."


End file.
